


Backpack

by Loki_ate_my_pudding



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: ARTIST EDDIE, Afterlife, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sad, Sad Eddie, when is it never sad?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 02:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_ate_my_pudding/pseuds/Loki_ate_my_pudding
Summary: “ backpack, on my back, walking down the railroad tracksoh, i’ve been wanting to see youeyes upon the rows of trees, an endless sea in front of me,oh, i’ve been longing to see you. “-or, eddie longs for ten years for what he can’t have. until he can.





	Backpack

**Author's Note:**

> this is a really sad fic, but hopefully the redeeming end is enough !

eddie felt like he'd been walking for years.

of course he'd felt that way though, through the darkest night in derry he'd been around for, after an eight hour shift at freese's downtown that sold overly large everything's and made his head burst while children screamed and begged for teddy bears and adults threw fits over everything. he knew he should've gone on a day he didn't have work, felt more energized and more comfortable with walking at night, but he didn't.

he'd hit a low the day before, the type that disappears after a day but leaves you feeling empty like never before, but a little different every single time. this time, the low didn't go anywhere, and he knew what that meant.

eddie was tired, so so tired, and it was later than he realized, the watch on his wrist reading 4:36 as the crickets chirped and frogs croaked in the trees, all a significant distance away from where he walked. he listened to the sounds of the night, the starts motionless in the sky as he thought more and more about the empty pit in his chest. wednesday night, a wednesday night, and he was sadder than he ever was.

his shoulders ached from the weight of the pack he carried on his back, filled to the brim with a mixture of paint pens, his notebook, a bag of chips, and a bottle of jack daniels. he didn't care, everything ached at this point, he was in his twenties and had been having the aches since his teen years, wondered if maybe the pills he took as a kid weren't really placebos, but he knew they were.

he knew a lot of things he didn't want to admit he knew.

but eddie still walked, until he reached the bridge. he sat down on the tracks, pulling all the things out of his backpack and laying them out in front of him. the trees swayed with gentle wind as he could hear the faint running of water from the creek that ran under him, lack of rain making it quieter than usual. soft and low. just what he wanted.

he began to draw, in the dark like usual, not forcing his eyes to focus as he knew it'd turn out better if he couldn't see what he was doing. the less to focus on, the more easy it was. he just thought.

eddie missed his friends. he missed the losers club and he missed the years they still lived in derry, but he didn't blame any of them for leaving after the summer. he would've left too, if he could.

there was an invisible chain holding him back, a longing to complete something he never quite could. so kaspbrak stayed, living in an apartment after the death of sonia & sharing it with a college kid named luke that he never spoke to. he never spoke to anyone, unless it was a customer at work that needed greeting or help. there was no one he felt the need to talk to.

but he stayed anyway, instead of looking for what he always wished he could have. it wasn't what he wanted anymore. he felt empty still, the type of empty no temporary person could even start to fill, the type that couldn't be filled at all. nothing worked out for him, not like he needed it to.

"i know it's been a while since i've tried to talk to you. not much to say anymore," he croaked out, still letting the pen go across the page effortlessly, "there's thousands of things to tell you, but i can't say them."

he stopped and waited as if the wind would answer in the voice he'd waited years to hear.

"well, i know what's happening today." he spoke up again after a few moments of running water and breezy trees, swallowing thickly, "i think you know too."

he finished the drawing, putting a rock from the tracks on the corner so it wouldn't blow away, and cracked open the bottle of jack, taking a big swig of the liquor, feeling the burn in his mouth and warmth spreading through his chest and stomach. the only warmth he ever felt anymore was from alcohol.

"it's been how many years now? ten? shits rough without you. everyone left, i've been alone for ten years," another swig, "and it doesn't feel much different than when they were still here."

the wind picked up, but nothing changed around him as he opened the chips, taking a bite and sighing. "these don't even taste good anymore, you know? they used to be your favorite."

it was boring then, as he took more sips of the alcohol and sat in silence now. it was different ten years ago.

the spot used to be loud, full of seven teens that wanted nothing more than to have a good time while they lied to their parents about staying at bill's place. they'd bring the liquor, and the bud, and snacks and party until they fell asleep in the field a bit away from the tracks. ben and beverly would share a blanket, a scratchy one from the back of beverly's old van that she drove. stan and mike did too, usually pitching a tent for stan so he wouldn't complain about grass.

bill always longed for audra, his girlfriend who never came around the losers but pretended to enjoy them while she was around, and slept alone.

but richie and eddie? they were different. they shared a blanket in the truck bed of the shitty, rusted chevy richie's ma got him for his seventeenth birthday. they cuddled and slept in much last the sun's position at noon, much past the other losers had gone back home, and always woke up in solitude with each other, their favorite way to do so.

but the spot was quiet now.

there was no bill missing audra. no irritating fight between stan and mike, no cute poetry from ben to bev, no guitar played around the fire they'd build, no cuddling between richie and eddie, because no one else was there.

bill followed audra, of course he had, to england. she's always been in love with the idea of the swiss mountains, the cuckoo clocks in germany, the streets of amsterdam. they called her name in a way that entranced the two of them.

stan and mike went away to college, a promise to return to derry one day hung in the air with no word between any of them. they'd become to successful to remember it much, anyway.

beverly and ben has gone to hollywood, at the top of the chain. she'd made beautiful costumes, and he'd made beautiful poetry for movies, scripts that made authors sob, and more money that eddie could imagine.

and eddie never left.

"i never sat down and told you how much i needed you. i never told you how much i missed you," he said, "you're all i've been thinking about for ten years. how you used to smile, how you talked, comforted me, made me laugh," 

it didn't need to rain for water to run, it never did.

"i never told you how much i needed you."

the bottle was thrown at some point, maybe a bit after he'd started crying. the chips were gone, the painting was dried, but the sun wasn't up.

the starts still twinkled when the bridge shook a little bit. "i fucking need you!" 

he cried it to the sky, like the dark would respond, "i always needed you! i didn't need them, i never did, i never needed ma, or those pills, or anything else, just you! it was always you,"

he closed his eyes and laid back, "it was always just you."

the spot was quiet without the losers around. no beverly, no ben. no bill, stan, mike, or richie. no eddie. no one, and it was quiet.

the edge of the painting lifted up in the wind, the face drawn in pale yellows and creams and peaches smiling into the scenery, looking at truly nothing now. 

the wind died down, and the sun began to rise, and it was quiet as the crickets stopped chirping and all there was would be the hardly running water, and silent birds.

_"i knew it's always been me."_

_he stared at the figure, in the grass he'd realized he'd fallen in love the first time. the hair was the same, the wild curls that stuck out in every way, the glasses that took up half his face. seventeen again, like he'd looked the day before, dressed with the shitty, thin jean jacket he'd bought at the salvo with eddie a year prior and covered with pins and patches, a band shirt he'd seen hanging in the closet, the cure, one of his favorites._

_the same height as always, nothing had changed at all. not the freckles, not the grin, or the hands, the eyes like honey, the teeth a little too sharp, nothing._

_eddie took a step forward that felt like a million feet more than he'd ever taken before, closer to what he'd grown so far from in ten years. closer, and closer, until he smelled the same cologne he remembered so clearly. he'd never forgotten._

_closer, until he felt the warmth not even the alcohol could replicate._

_closer, until he felt the hug he'd been aching for. until the skinny arms wrapped around his frame, the strong chest he pressed his cheek against, the most comforting thing. "it's okay, it always has been. i knew, you never told me but i knew, love."_

_he didn't cry, not even when richie's words were soft in his ear, just like before. he just smiled against him, a feeling he'd waited so long to feel again._

_"and you totally just dissed my favorite chips, eds."_

_"trashmouth," he croaked out, and wondered vaguely if he himself looked seventeen again, or if he was 27 like he had been, "you have no idea how much i've been waiting for this,"_

_"i do." he said, pulling back enough to push eddie's bangs from his face, to look into his eyes, "i've felt it. i've seen you. you've grown to be someone i wish i could've stuck around to be with," _

_"richie-"_

_"and i couldn't down there, but i can here." he said, and eddie didn't need to cry for him to, "i wish i could've stayed. but it's okay, yeah? i'm here now, and so are you, and we have forever. for real this time."_

_"for real?"_

_"everything here is as you wish, eds. you wished for the field, huh?" he grinned a bit, "i missed this place. i missed you."_

_"i love you, richie."_

_"i love you too."_


End file.
